


Unexpected Visitors to Unexpected Kisses

by orphan_account



Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-06 02:48:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5400032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Victoria's never had a better idea that the one she has tonight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected Visitors to Unexpected Kisses

A broken door is the least of Victoria’s problems right now. Maybe if Gabe hadn’t passed out drunk in her bed, she wouldn’t have had to slam the door shut hard enough to snap off fingers. She’s pretty sure she doesn’t actually break it, but she still probably wakes the entire floor up. Those who aren’t blacked out in her bed, that is.

Normally, she wouldn’t really give a damn, and just go crawl into her bed anyways and steal the blanket away from Gabe, but there’s something keeping her from doing that. Someone, actually. A random girl wrapped around Gabe, also passed out in _her_ goddamn bed. 

But it’s fine. It’s cool. She’ll just go sleep in Gabe’s bed, then chew him out tomorrow. Except, Victoria realizes upon entering Gabe’s room, there’s a reason why he’s sleeping in her bed instead of his own. 

Something must have gone horribly wrong while she was gone—and she doesn’t really want to know what—because there’s a fucking hole in the ceiling, and a pile of debris scattered across Gabe’s bed and onto the floor.

Victoria can feel a headache start to pound at the base of her temples. This isn’t the first time she’s thought this, and certainly not the last, but she really, _really_ regrets agreeing to share an apartment with Gabe while recording their album. 

She leaves the room before she breaks even more of their apartment and goes to pace around the small living room, the carpet muffling her footsteps. Her head turns towards the couch with a glare. She _could_ have just slept on that, but last week Gabe had decided—or his five shots of vodka had decided—to light one of the cushions on fire and throw it at Ryland. Ryland had escaped with only the loss of his shirt, but their poor couch cushion hadn’t made it. So, Gabe, with all his creativity, had just taken the rough decorative pillows and stuffed them into the empty space. It hadn’t helped much.

So, with sleeping on the couch out of the question (and she isn’t even going to consider sleeping on the floor) Victoria ponders her options as she continues to pace around the quiet room. She could probably just go wake up Alex and Ryland—they only live one floor up—but that’s when a brilliant idea pops into her head.

Patrick Stump.

Patrick: the producer of their next album, the cutest guy Victoria’s ever met, and the second biggest contributor to her eternal frustration (Gabe being the first, obviously). However, unlike Gabe, Patrick isn’t a pain in the ass.

Patrick’s sweet, quiet, showers regularly, and is unlike any guy Victoria’s been subjected to spending time with for the past year. He’s refreshing; he’s an escape; he’s fucking adorable and Victoria needs her name surrounded by hearts in his phone.

But, Patrick is the most annoyingly oblivious guy she’s ever met. They flirt so much the other guys have to constantly ask her if they’ve hooked up yet already. _No, not yet_ , she’ll sigh, each time a little more dejectedly.

It’s obvious Patrick likes her back. He blushes whenever she catches him off-guard, sometimes he starts to stutter when she smiles, and when she puts her arm around him—that’s when it gets _really_ good.

But, he won’t make a goddamn move on her. Not a single invitation to go out for drinks, or come over and watch Netflix, or even just “let’s make out in the soundbooth”. And thus why’s he’s been given the title of “second most frustrating person in Victoria Asher’s life”. 

However, this is where Victoria’s current situation comes into play. It’s obvious to her now: she’ll drive over to Patrick’s apartment, tell him she doesn’t have anywhere to stay, and somehow end up in his bed. It’s foolproof.

Her mind shifting into a whir as the plan settles, Victoria takes just enough time to go into her room and change out of her skinny jeans and into a pair of sweatpants. Just as she’s throwing her jeans somewhere in the direction of the hamper, she hears a garbled moan come from the bed. She jumps at first, then sighs, remembering it’s just Gabe and… whoever. She figures she might as well try to tell him where she’s going so he won’t worry when he actually wakes up. She’s pretty sure that he’ll be too hungover to notice anyways, but it’s worth a shot.

“Hey,” she whispers, moving over to crouch down next to him by the edge of the bed, the only light coming harshly from the door and coincidentally falling right on Gabe’s face. “Gabe. Hey. Dickbag. I’m leaving.”

“Vicky…” Gabe’s voice comes out as a slurred groan, his eyes closed tightly to keep out the light. “Can you… like… turn off the fucking light…” Victoria flicks him in the forehead, resulting in a string of curses and complaints.

“Maybe if you tell me how you broke the ceiling.” Gabe groans again and winces. Victoria doesn’t like what that entails.

“...Jumped,” he mumbles, still keeping his eyes closed. The girl halfway on top of him hasn’t moved the entire time she’s been in here. Victoria slightly hopes she isn’t dead.

“Gabe,” she sighs, rubbing the sides of her head to try and dull her worsening headache. “You can’t even stand up on that bed without your head touching the ceiling.” Gabe’s only answer is a light snore. Doesn’t look like she’s getting anymore out of that conversation, she thinks as she stands up to walk out of the room, shutting the door behind her, a bit reluctantly. One day, she won’t put up with his shit anymore. Just not today.

But, right now, Victoria has more pressing matters to attend to. A smile sparking onto her face, she doesn’t waste anymore time in unlocking the front door while slipping into her boots and sliding on a coat, key already in the pocket. She can feel her hands buzzing with anticipation as she twists her house key in the lock and practically skips off down the hallway and into the stairwell.

In no time at all, Victoria’s in her car, driving down the road to Patrick’s apartment, a late-night radio show buzzing in the background. She distracts her eyes from the road for a brief moment, checking the time. The digital clock on her dashboard reads 3:41 AM. Victoria debates for a second on whether or not she should call Patrick and warn him, but decides against it. She wants him fully flustered and adorable. 

A few minutes later, Victoria’s car pulls up to Patrick’s apartment complex, the headlights casting dark shadows across the pavement. She feels the excitement bubbling in her stomach as she jumps out and locks her car with a beep, the cold night air blowing across her face. Her breath comes out in white puffs as she climbs up the stairs to Patrick’s floor, the chill and her anticipation pushing her up faster. 

Victoria doesn’t stop until her feet are planted in front of Patrick’s door, fist raised and poised to knock. For the first time, she realizes that Patrick might get mad at her for waking him up. _It_ is _almost four in the morning_ , she thinks to herself, biting her lip. The she remembers—it’s Patrick fucking Stump. She’s pretty sure he only ever gets mad at Pete. And definitely not pretty girls.

Putting a smug grin on her face, Victoria raps her knuckles on the door, a trio of knocks ringing out from the wood. She’s unsure of whether or not that’s enough to wake him up all the way from his bedroom. Nonetheless, she holds her breath and counts to ten, exhaling in a cloud of white when the door is still unanswered.

Lifting her hand up again, Victoria pounds her fist against the door a couple more times. She holds her breath for five more seconds. Nothing happens.

Impatient, Victoria simply puts her fist back up to the door, repeatedly banging, growing more intense the longer she’s kept waiting. It’s fucking cold.

Her knuckles have barely started to ache when the wood is replaced with empty air, the door being swung open by a furiously shushing Patrick.

“V-Victoria…?!” he stutters out as soon as he realizes who’s been pounding on his door. Immediately, his eyebrows shoot up and his eyes go wide, sputtering out something incomprehensible. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before any words find their way out.

“What are you-” Patrick interrupts himself, shutting his mouth with a jump and looking over his shoulder for a half a second before turning back and lowering his voice to a whisper. “What are you doing here?”

“I need a place to stay,” Victoria says simply. Instead of waiting for an answer, she just walks past him into the apartment, kicking off her boots at the mat. “That’s cool, right?” she asks, smiling out of the corner of her mouth as she unzips her coat and hangs it on the rack by the front door. She turns back to Patrick, making sure to flash him her brightest smile. It isn’t hard, to be honest, with the way Patrick’s hair is sticking up all over the place and how she can just barely make out his cheeks heating up in the dim light.

“Ye-yeah, of cour-” he stumbles, and looks back over to the living room, flustered, lowering his voice again. “Of course you can stay. Just… uh, just wait a sec.” Victoria raises an eyebrow and looks behind herself over to the living room. Victoria can barely make out the couch with the little bit of light coming from the front door, but she knows it’s facing away from her anyways. She thinks she can hear snoring coming from it over the sound of Patrick shutting the door behind her and plunging the room into darkness. 

She’s about to ask who’s sleeping over when Patrick softly grabs her wrist and starts leading her over to where his bedroom is. Victoria doesn’t even care when she stubs her toe on an out-of-place chair; this is going so much better than she’d imagined.

Patrick is still apologizing profusely in a hush once they make it across the room, and he pushes open his bedroom door, pulling Victoria in. Shutting it quietly, he turns back to face her, fidgeting nervously with his hands. The only source of light in the room is a table lamp switched on, throwing a soft, yellow light over a messy bed and some small pieces of furniture. Now that she can see better, Victoria can definitely make out a deep blush spread across Patrick’s cheeks. She bites her lip to stifle a laugh. She’s not going to lie to herself—making him flustered is way too much fun.

“So,” she starts, amusement obvious in her tone, placing her hands on her hips and raising a brow. “Gonna explain?” She can visibly see Patrick stumbling to put words together—he’s probably just realizing what dragging a girl into his bedroom looks like. Not that Victoria would actually mind if he meant it like that.

“M-My friend Pete is sleeping on the couch. I didn’t w-”

“I know who Pete is, Patrick.” Victoria can’t stop herself from laughing this time, giggling into her palm instead.

“I-I know!” he sputters, smacking his forehead with his hand. “I just said that. I don’t know why. I’m just…” Patrick pauses, sighing and making some ambiguous hand gestures. Victoria waits attentively for him to finish. I’m just what? Too overwhelmed by your beauty? Madly in love with you? She needs to know.

“I’m just… yeah,” he sighs after a few seconds, looking down at the floor. Victoria’s pretty sure her expression visibly droops. Not what she wanted to hear. “So, anyways…” Patrick begins, changing the topic. “Pete called me from some bar saying he was—or at least trying to say—that he was too drunk to get home on his own. So, I just let him stay here.” Victoria rolls her eyes. Typical Pete. Typical Patrick, too.

“You’re too nice to him, Patrick,” Victoria chides with a grin, crossing her arms over her chest. “At least your drunk asshole has the decency to pass out on your couch.” Patrick raises an eyebrow, waiting for her to go on. “Gabe passed out with some chick in my bed.

“And,” she continues, before Patrick can ask, “I couldn’t sleep in his bed because there’s a pile of ceiling on it.”

“Uh, wow,” Patrick exhales, only looking partially surprised. “I just… won’t ask.” Victoria nods solemnly. “Don’t you guys have a couch, though?”

“Gabe set one of the cushions on fire last week.”

“Oh.” Patrick looks like he’s trying to think of something else to comment, but just lightly shakes his head instead. “So… now you’re here?”

“Now I’m here,” Victoria repeats, a smile tugging at her lips. It seems like he’d forgotten why she’s here for a bit, because now his cheeks are turning pink again. 

“Well-I, um-I can sleep on the floor if you want the bed,” he offers, shuffling over to the closet to start pulling out extra pillows.

“Patrick,” Victoria sighs with an eyeroll, going over to stand next to him. “I’m not going to let you sleep on the floor in your own house.” Patrick pauses from rummaging through his closet to straighten up and look at her, a pillow clenched between his hands. Victoria can tell he’s nervous. It’s really cute.

“But I really don’t want you to have to sleep on the floor,” he argues bashfully, not making eye contact with her. “It’s fine, really. I’m pretty used t-”

“How about,” Victoria cuts him off, pulling the pillow out of his hands and dropping it back in the closet, “We both sleep in your bed.” Patrick’s eyes go wide for a few seconds before he lets out a nervous laugh and goes to back to get his pillow from the closet.

“I’m not joking,” Victoria protests softly, pushing the pillow back out of Patrick’s hands and lacing an arm around his neck. “I like you.” Patrick double takes, a furious blush burning across his cheeks as his eyes move back and forth from Victoria’s arm to her face.

“Y-y-you _what_?!” he practically screeches, eyes widening even more. Victoria lets out a soft laugh, bringing her other arm up around his shoulder.

“I. Like. You,” she enunciates, tapping the back of his neck with each word. Patrick, unsurprisingly, just stares at her in shock, his mouth hanging slightly open as he processed her words. Victoria thinks she might’ve broken him. She opens her mouth to ask him if he’s planning on answering anytime soon when she’s interrupted by Patrick, stepping up on his toes and crashing his lips against hers.

Victoria’s mouth goes wide in shock—Patrick Stump, making a move on her? Unbelievable. Just as she’s gathering her wits and is about to shove her tongue into his mouth or something of equal value, Patrick pulls away in a rush, stepping away and putting a painful foot of space between the two.

“I’m so sorry!” Patrick bursts out, his eyes wide and his hands clutched to his chest. Victoria scrunches her face in confusion, taking a small step back towards him.

“Patrick, what are you t-”

“I-I don’t know what I was thinking! Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I just- I just- I j-”

“Shut up,” Victoria says, cutting him off as she steps forward and presses a soft kiss against his lips. “I said I like you.”

“Okay,” he squeaks, before cringing and shaking his head a bit. “I mean,” he starts, clearing his throat, “I, uh, like you too?” Victoria grins and puts her arms back around his neck.

“Yeah. I guessed.”

“Oh. Um, yeah. I forgot.” Victoria rolls her eyes and leans forward to bury her face in his shoulder, letting out a soft laugh. Instead of pulling away after a bit, Victoria just rests her head there, breathing in his smell of soap and shampoo, with an undertone of alcohol.

A minute or two pass before she feels Patrick shift under her, a hesitant hand wrapping around her lower back. The two just stand there for a while, just holding each other and not saying anything, and Victoria feels herself starting to drift off to the rhythm of Patrick’s breathing.

“Hey… Victoria…” Patrick mumbles, breaking the silence and lightly shaking her back to alertness. “Are you really falling asleep standing up?” Victoria finally pulls away from him, rubbing her eyes before looking back down at him.

“...I’m talented.” Patrick just rolls his eyes with a snort and takes her hand in his and leads her over to the bed.

“You came over here to sleep right?” he asks with a laugh, pulling down the blanket for Victoria to climb in under. “Maybe we should actually do that.”

“Good idea,” Victoria smiles, leaning down to press another kiss against his lips, before sliding under the blankets and scooting over to make room for Patrick. His pillows are way softer than hers, (she decides she either has to steal one, or has to make a habit out of spending the night here) and she can smell his cologne as she lays her head down.

Next to her, Patrick shuts off the lamp and crawls in next to her, pulls the blanket up around the both of them. Victoria waits patiently for him to awkwardly wrap his arm around her, pulling her into his chest. With a content sigh, Victoria curls into him and listens to his heart beating.

She’s almost on the verge of sleep, the tempo of his heartbeat pulling her into unconsciousness, when Patrick speaks, the vibrations from his chest pulling her awake.

“Since… when… Since when did you like me…?” Victoria opens her eyes and looks up at him, sudden exasperation coming over her face.

“Weeks, Patrick.”

“Weeks?” Victoria rolls her eyes as she watches the surprise form on his face. If it wasn’t so cute, she would be really annoyed with him.

“ _Weeks_ ,” she drawls out, and then puts her head back against his chest and closes her eyes again. 

“That’s… um, that’s really… wow.” Victoria just lazily nods, hoping the conversations over. It’s not that she doesn’t like talking to Patrick, but she really needs her sleep.

“Wait, Victoria,” Patrick continues, and Victoria has to restrain a groan. “Don’t Alex and Ryland live in your building?” Victoria just nods again, letting out a little hum of agreement. “Why didn’t you just go sleep at their place?” 

“Shh,” she mumbles, bringing a hand up to cover Patrick’s mouth. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re tired.” Victoria’s pretty sure she feels Patrick roll his eyes when he laughs, and she brings her hand back to rest against his chest with a grin.

“I guess I’m going to have to get used to agreeing with you, huh?” Victoria let out a snort and pressed herself closer to him.

“You know it.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading and thank u for supporting tricky <3 (comments would be v much appreciated!)


End file.
